We had to say goodbye to Gary tonight.
I grew up around dogs, but outside farm dogs and it's different when you're a kid anyway.
So in all the important ways Gary has been my first dog.
I never thought I'd be anybody's "Papa" and I'm so glad I got to be his.
"I thought things were supposed to slow down before the Christmas period!" a colleague emailed me yesterday as she was saying she had to postpone a meeting for the second time.
Ha. I delivered training all day today, took Gary for his first of two vet checkups this week after work tonight, I'm on a site visit tomorrow, I've got four meetings on Friday and then right after work that day we're off to do Christmas with D's family.
Gary has never really had a "birthday," I have no idea when he was born, so the last couple years we've sorta defaulted to Wolfenoot as a day to spoil him in a similar fashion, it's cute.
Of course he's so spoiled now in his old age anyway that it's not easy to do so more than a normal day, ha.
Wolfenoot can be celebrated by eating meat and/or food shaped like the moon, by being extra kind to dogs, by donating to wolf conservation efforts and/or by howling at the moon tonight.
I had a pizza, which is round like the moon. And this is the one time we get the popcorn chicken for Gary and he doesn't even have to wait until we're done eating to get it, as he usually does (he does still have to share it (he'll have had like one bit, with the coating removed tonight and similar for the next few days), but he loves nothing more than sharing food with his humans so that's part of the treat!).
Gary has had a bad brain day.
He's been kind of quiet and vague all day, not quite with it at times, and now he's really struggling to settle down to sleep. He was just wandering around making restless little squeaks so I've taken him upstairs and done my bedtime routine myself -- 9pm is an acceptable bedtime for me normally but early for a Thursday when we Doof. Sometimes that helps; I think it signals to him that he doesn't need to worry about or be responsible for anything any more and he can go to sleep.
Now that I'm carrying him upstairs wrapped in a blanket, I often tease him about how he -- thrashing and growling as he usually is -- doesn't know how lucky he is because I'd love to be wrapped in a blanket and carried to bed. I wish I could also get a signal that I'm done with my worries and responsibilities for the day and it's time to go to sleep.
I was tethered to my computer in a meeting I couldn't pay attention to when I heard V come back in with the dog.
I heard them clip his leash off his harness and say "There you go! Go tell your papa about your adventure!"
So far so normal. We don't always say adventure but this is an old dog; if he gets past our half of our street this is a remarkable occurrence to be shared with all the humans. (His walks going from the usual two, morning and night, of ordinary length for a dog of his kind to much shorter ones that he'll demand at random (especially now that he prefers to go outside with his humans to going out into the backyard on his own means we have to chauffeur him to most of his toilet breaks) has actually made it possible for V to accompany Gary on the walks much more often, because this is also about as much unsupported time and distance as they can spend outside too! More inclusive walks, good job Gary.)
"You guys were out a long time!" I called (blessedly on mute, and with my camera off).
"There's a reason for that," V said. "We were visiting."
Oh nice, I thought. I wonder who they ran in to. Were on friendly enough terms with many of the neighbors on this street, and we get other dog-walkers and people just walking by sometimes.
But V continued: "We were in a house!" That baffled me.
She explained that one of our neighbors, whose surname we know but not his first name, now had a first name (M). And a wife. She has a name too (J). And quite severe dementia. She had frantically flagged V down -- actually waving a scarf at one point, apparently -- and insisted that they and Gary come inside. J was not able to communicate terribly effectively but V told me it was clear she was trying to tell them something about another little dog and it turns out M & J used to have spaniels and are getting a puppy tomorrow.
V and Gary had a very nice brief visit, apparently Gary was an angel and he even got to eat little bits of a malted milk biscuit that M fed him. M seemed relieved that V was cheerfully conversing with his wife, nodding along to things they could not understand and matching J's energy. V has personal and professional experience of supporting people with dementia and is probably one of the better people to randomly be invited in by such a person, so it worked out beautifully from that perspective.
V has an invitation to go around tomorrow to meet the puppy (if they have the spoons), and I have also excitedly volunteered to help puppy-wrangle if M & J would like the help.
And apparently Gary was an angel. V said they did warn M about him and his own doggy dementia, but that he was really well-behaved and charming, like I say literally eating out of their hands, being fine when M held his leash (he's never that bothered about which human is on the other end of his string; he clearly sees it as something that is there for him to keep track of his humans, certainly not the other way around!), and being sanguine about his attempts to get into M & J's kitchen being foiled by V.
V was absolutely shattered by the unexpected spoon usage, but just as charmed by the reason for it. And so was I when they told me about it. How lovely to make such connections.
I really didn't expect my gender would end up being so thoroughly Midwestern Dad, but here I am relaxing after a busy week at work by drinking a beer and yelling at the sportsball on TV.
The British coverage of MLB is a little better now (there is some play-by-play!), still annoying and weird, but then the official commentary probably is too heh.
I've had a fun and surprisingly chill evening (D is out and I worried that Gary would squeak forever but he took himself to bed early and has been an angel; every time I yell too loud he looks up like "are you okay? can I assist?" and I have to reassure him and tell him to go back to sleep) watching some Game 1s of the division series: Tigers @ Guardians and now Mets @ Phillies.
By about 4pm today, an hour or so before I would be done with work for the week, I escaped my last meeting of the day and was struggling to make myself do any more work.
Instead I just found myself thinking about how the last few days.
It has gone so well. Work hasn't been as demanding as it was last week (and, uh, for the last month).
Gary's behavior has been exemplary, I am so proud of him. (Earlier this afternoon, when I'd just started chairing a meeting, there was a drilling-in-the-wall noise from next door which made him whimper a lot and I don't blame him for that -- I jumped and winced too -- and that was rough but we both managed okay and luckily the weird noise didn't last too long.)
I have slept decently, both nights.
And yet...
I am so tired.
I feel a little ridiculous about this -- a lot of people live alone all the time! But I'm not used to it at all: It occurred to me the last time the other two made this trip was the first time I was really on my own for a whole week, which was a wild realization.
But also I guess I'm used to us joking about how it takes all three of us (with our various disabilities etc.) to make one functioning person. And about how it takes a village to raise a Gary.
I'm used to them feeling like jokes anyway, but of course they're not.
Gary has coped really well all day but now we've reached the part of the day where his routine is the most reliable and it still hasn't gone back to normal. Poor little sausage. I've told him we've come a long way but have a long way left to go too: hang in there little dude.
One of the people we went to for help when we all started struggling with what turned out to be Gary's canine cognitive decline (what I call "doggy dementia" because that's basically what it is) has just posted about how one of their dogs, one of the dogs whose name provides the name of the dog-training company, is coming to the end of his life and their concern about him not suffering.
I don't know the dog, but from their description he has similar conditions and symptoms to Gary, and of course them helping us so much with Gary (it is no exaggeration to say that we wouldn't have been able to keep Gary with us if not for all the support we got from this person and their business partner), I couldn't help but draw parallels.
I left a comment
As you know Gary has CCD and he's on Librela injections for his arthritis now too. We are keeping such a close eye on his quality of life for exactly these reasons.
When he had that vestibular episode last year I was so sad at the prospect of losing him but what really hurt me was that he was clearly suffering on our way to the vet hospital, and the thought of his last moments being scared or in pain just tore me up. Having that "trial run," as it turned out to be, of facing a world with no more Gary assured me that I've got no regrets about how his life has been while he's been in my care and that's what matters to me too. Every good day is a gift and we treat them as such.
Next week it's October, and last October was when he had that episode. I don't know when his birthday is but I know he was a birthday present for someone whose birthday is in November so I've always kinda thought of that as when to tick over the number that we tell people when they ask how old he is. So now we're saying "he's nearly nineteen."
"Nineteen!" the strangers usually say. I would too.
He's so remarkable and I feel lucky.
He's been an angel all day, napping through an hours-long meeting so I can attend a lot more of it than I expected to be able to. Right now he's snuggled up on "his" duvet looking up at me. His ability to make puppy-dog eyes at me has been in no way affected by him having only one eye.
D drove V to a hospital appointment this afternoon (we discussed how, fully understanding and appreciating that they're doing Saturday appointments to cut down on the backlog, it still felt really weird to have a Saturday appointment!) which of course left me home with Gary.
I told him it was practice for the week after tomorrow of us being on our own. And he was an absolute angel, clearly sad but coping very well: trying to settle down to wait on his bed and being quiet.
I told him I'm taking that as a good omen. We'll see!
I don't even know what to say about today.
I was too headachy to make our traditional Friday-night dinner with D, so he had to just do some easy food on his own. I'm grateful he could, but sad to miss our little ritual. With me being gone for four days and him and V gone all next week, it feels like I haven't spent enough time with them lately.
It was another busy demanding day at work (I got some stuff done which should feel good but also I found out Boss^3 has a much broader idea than I did of what I am expected to cover in this phase of an already-stressful project so I feel as swamped as ever) but at least it was the last one, of my twelve in a row? I told the others that I literally don't remember what a day without work is like. I'll find out tomorrow by going to my usual Saturday weightlifting class!
Well I say usual, I couldn't go last week and I can't go next week.
I figured out how to claim TOIL and I've asked for Thursday and Friday off next week, so I can be a little more present for the sad dog who by that time will have reached the heights of "they're still not home??" because his favorite human and the chief/concierge human that he's used to going to when he wants things will still be gone (they leave Monday).
Gary had a slightly weird day -- not as interested in things that are usually high-value treats, with no obvious explanation; had friendly but unexpected humans in his house; probably still has a full stress-bucket from the last day or two. With one thing and another, he wanted lots of pets and even though his humans stayed home all day he was really clingy even when I was, like, in the next room talking to my parents this evening.
We call him a "feelings dog" or "feelings boy" when he's like this (always affectionately, often when he's either doing the sad little squeaks or getting cuddles that he's unusually interested in).
At times like this I really admire his emotional literacy: he knows what to do, you ask your humans for help, you demand more affection that you'd usually accept, you try to get extra treats out of it, you do what I've learned as a trick from V who describes it as "what would a person who felt okay do now?" -- they'd eat meals, take meds, go about their little self-care routines. Gary does this by trying to settle down when he's tired and it's bedtime; he's a great flailer, a thrasher of blankets, you can almost see his excess feelings departing his body as he beats his bedding in to exactly the right shape for a cozy nest.
I really admire his ability to determine what his emotional needs are and to ask for the help he needs.
I guess I've also been a feelings boy myself today. Lots of things went into it for me, too. "Here are my sad squeaks:
I ended up in tears at bedtime on Sunday. Something that hasn't happened in a while.
D came to bed soon after, offering cuddles and concern. He asked me what was wrong, I choked out "a lot of things." "Pick one," he said.
So I talked about work. It sucks on a micro (can't do my job because of blockage within the organization) and macro (literally in the news) level at the same time, which is really difficult to deal with. One or the other, you can kinda let tht one go for a bit and focus on the other one. Both at once... and with no end in sight... It's a lot.
I was unenthused about a day off, but he offered to have a day off with me. Which at the time just meant I was being held accountable for actually doing it, heh. But by Tuesday morning, when I couldn't get out of bed and the concept of getting dressed felt unfathomable, it helped a lot to be able to tell myself you'll get a day off this week.
D had told me any of Wednesday, Thursday or Friday would be good for him. I checked my calendar on Monday at work and that evening told him that the one that'd work for me is Thursday.
Tuesday at work, I realized that I'd meant to tell him Wednesday.
As someone said, this is proof enough that I need a break.
He very kindly swapped his day off and I tried to do so as well (it's a little more complicated for me because I can't un-book time off; I can book it myself but only my manager or HR can deny it!). And so we had today off already!
We slept all morning, I turned off my alarm which isn't unusual but I didn't hear any of D's either which is unprecedented. We slept until around 11. It felt great.
Before I even got out of bed, I had some good news which is that I'm finally not listed as a director for a company I don't have anything to do with. It has taken forever but they did accept it with my explanation: "I don't have utilities in my name; other people live here as well. And Erik is the name I am known by but not the name on legal paperwork so I am unsure how to prove it. I'm also unsure why I should be having to prove this when no such proof was needed for someone else to enter me into legal and financial responsibilities without my knowledge or consent."
Also before I got out of bed, I was already learning charming new things about Tim Walz from comments on a friend's Facebook post:
When he was teaching high school he started the first GSA at the school. In 1999. And later said it had to be him. It had to be the straight, married, former soldier, and football coach. He knew it had to be him. There just keep being more things I like about him.
and
I've gotten to know his type of Minnesota democrat through my husband's family and.... yeah, they're a good lot. I'm so excited for people to get to know this kind of politician! & he reminds me, in a few ways, of my deceased father in law, who I wish were here to see this!!
and
I saw someone say, "Tim Walz is the dad we lost to Rush Limbaugh and Fox News." 💔ðŸ˜
(This has lots more hearts and sobbing-emojis and " I just.... Whew... Full body reaction." / "... I didn't know I was holding that pocket of grief. Thank you." / "Ow. Yeah. I haven't felt actual dad vibes I wanted in a damn-too-long." / "BIG BIG OOF". Left me being grateful that my dad always has been and still is not having any of that Rush Limbaugh/Fox News nonsense.)
While I was waiting to get dressed (gotta let the planned manitizer dry) and putting away a basketful of laundry I'd done yesterday, D had taken the dog for a walk already, and made me coffee! It was waiting for me by the time I got downstairs. As the usual first-one-up, I love being looked after in the mornings particularly; I love the quiet hours to myself but I also love it when someone else makes me coffee/tea.
Gary got his favorite thing, which was a day of all his humans in the same room. More or less. When D and I went out this afternoon to get some topsoil and compost from B&M, rather than getting V to come downstairs to keep the dog company in his current unwillingness/inability to use the stairs himself, I brought Gary up. Something we normally only do at night, so it was a little confusing for him but it meant V could continue painting and drawing where all their stuff is and didn't just have to dogsit. Apparently he was really good, and it was sweet to see him waiting at the top of the stairs (where he can see the front door), looking out for us when we came home.
He got most of the way down the stairs on his own once he realized that D and I had brought back sandwiches for all the humans to have for lunch. That dog is an utter fiend for sandwiches, he absolutely loves them. It's baffling. But we complimented his dedication to doing the stairs by himself.
Taking him upstairs worked just as well later in the day when D and I wanted to lie down; he napped happily in my room and eventually went to go complain to V that his other humans were being boring and not doing anything important like paying attention to the dog.
D suggested I could choose some takeout tonight for my day off. I pointed out it was his day off too, but he said it was because of me and treats for me were good. (I am typing this on a cheap keyboard with LED lights in a rainbow under the keys, something I've coveted and also my work-supplied keyboard is starting to die, and also this was only £10 so he got it for me.) So we had burgers and stuff from a new-to-us place since the one we like seems to have closed or changed ownership. The food was okay but not as good as the old place. I was envious of D's milkshake though; I hadn't thought to look at those on the menu and he got my favorite kind (chocolate mint); I had a taste and was wistful.
It has been such a lovely day.
I know most people would prefer a long weekend but I actually love the way this worked out; two 2-day "workweeks" per week feels so much more manageable. A single day off can't fix any of my problems at work, but it has meant that I feel much more okay about going back to work tomorrow.
Perfect weather today, high of 74°F. After I was done with work, V (new initial I'm gonna use for ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mother_bones until further notice) and I harvested a little purple broccoli, some carrots, and green onions. They made a nice dinner along with the last of the snow peas/mange tout from the garden which we already had in the fridge, and some bagged salad that I added carrot tops and chopped steamed broccoli leaves to. And some veggie hot dogs.
It was an unusually unfriendly-to-Gary dinner though: stuff Gary doesn't eat or can't have. He went from expecting us to share, to being baffled that we didn't, to seeming genuinely concerned for us eating all that nonfood.
D saved him a little of the veggie sausage. Better than I managed (I put ketchup on mine, which he hates, before I thought of saving some for him)!
First thing in the morning, D and I went to the "design consultation" for our phodography from the other week.
Design consultation is the fancy name they give to "we'll actually let you see the photos." I tried hard to get them to do it over Zoom or something so we could all participate because I didn't think MB would be up to another trip and we ended up taking advantage of a cancellation that was so early she wasn't able to get out of bed yet. But they absolutely refused, they're like "oh the experience is part of it..." and I'm like stares in blind but whatever. So D drove us to this random place again and we sat in a room with a big projector and a sofa and cups of tea and watched a slideshow of photos of us and our dog, with the kind of sentimental piano music I associate with these kinds of photo slideshows at funerals. So that was odd, but made me all the happier Gary is still with us.
The photos were, of course, great because Gary is so photogenic he has his own international fan club on social media. And it was lovely to see not just him but all three of us -- individually with him and then all together -- as well.
I'm exactly the kind of mark that people who do dog photography should be on the lookout for: I have an adorable dog, he's old and he nearly died and I'm extremely sentimental about him, and I finally in middle age have the disposable income to spend a silly amount of it on photos of us and our dog. But it wouldn't be a family portrait without him, and when else would we get such a thing?
This was such a part of my upbringing -- I have the most recent one of my parents in my bedroom, a few feet away as I type this -- and I haven't been part of one since the last one we did before my brother died so that was either 19 or 20 years ago. I have a copy of the family photo from that too but I don't have it out.
Anyway I haven't set foot in a professional photo studio since and I never missed it. If it wasn't for Gary and this silly thing I won on Facebook, I probably never would have again because I didn't want to, I don't have any good associations with it.
But this has made me extra glad to have had this chance to be with my other family, Gary the Wonder Dog and the humans barakta started calling the WonderHouse. So of course I spent ridiculous money on the fancy photos. I'm so happy we're here.
Mowed the lawn. Overdue - as it always seems to be this summer, I just can't get on top of it when it rains so much. And I'm so tired/burnt out all the time. So it feels good to have done something.
I guess I also did a Tesco order for tomorrow -- we needed more milk for Gary (yes he's got his own milk, there are five kinds of milk in this house for the three humans and one dog in it) and peanut butter and a few other things, but it hadn't been that long since our last grocery order so I also flung some fun stuff in the virtual basket too, like ice cream now that I can believe that summer weather might come back.
I read a third of How Infrastructure Works, a book I originally put on my library hold list intending to see if it'd make a good present for D, my beloved infrastructure nerd. When I told him I'd done this, probably six months ago, he said he'd considered buying it for me as well. Aww. It does seem to be a good book!
And I did a lot of Gary management (this is the reason I stayed home and am not camping this weekend). He's had a sad day. He woke us both up at like three in the morning, and that takes some doing once MB has taken off her hearing aid! I was already with him and had turned the light on and had done the things that usually snap him out of his barking fits -- sometimes he's explicitly asking for help, the rest of the time whatever he's angry/scared about he can be distracted from by the presence of his humans.
I felt very helpless and disoriented when me going to him and talking to him and all the usual stuff didn't work. I'm kinda the nuclear option when it comes to the dog; if I can't soothe him/pick him up/etc, it's likely that no one can. So on these rare occasions where I can't do anything for him, it feels not just heartbreaking but a little eerie, like having a familiar path suddenly disappear and leave me stranded in lonely darkness. And this feeling is not made worse by the blood-sugar-crash hours of the night...
I very glad I didn't leave MB to deal with Gary this weekend on her own. He's behaved but he's still a lot of work right now, through no fault of his own.
We've had the weirdest afternoon (positive).
The chance to do something we've never thought of kinda fell in our laps so today we've taken Gary (and our colour-coordinated selves) for professional photography.
So there will be some very exciting updates for his international fan club (which a friend made a hashtag for and everything, #TeamGary) when we see the resulting photos!
I had nothing riding on this session. I thought with his doggy dementia there might be, if not actually bloodshed and photos of him trying to bite or run away, things in that same spiritual vein. And his humans weren't doing great either: MB is mid-flare and had the kind of bad night that would normally preclude doing anything during the day and D's IBS of course choice this, a day off work for him, to flare up again too. I reminded everyone as we left the house that anyone, canine or human, could nope out at any time.
But Gary was great, so well-behaved and charming. And his humans held up well enough. It's extremely quiet in our house now that we're back; everyone is so tired. But the consensus seems to be that it's worth it.
Today started bad -- I slept through my alarm, work was demanding and depressing immediately, I couldn't even get breakfast until after 10am -- and in some ways it could be argued that it's ending bad because I have a migraine.
But before that, I made burgers and salad for tea, a favorite of mine. And I went to circuits class. And when I got back Gary wanted a walk (which is not unusual, part of how he shows his appreciation for the newly-arrived humans) but it wasn't the usual "stand on the driveway" or at most "bimble around our end of our road," oh no! This was the first time in many many months, maybe a year? where Gary walked around "the block" -- a previous routine walk, one of the many things that we just think isn't a thing any more because we have an old dog, etc. He keeps surprising us.
And when I did have a migraine I could still take the much-needed post-gym shower, thankful for the grab rail and shower chair in our shower, and go to bed at 9, and when D asked me if he could do anything I asked if he'd bring me an ice cream because I didn't want to face the stairs again. He brought me a Magnum and also massaged some clicks and knots out of my neck and shoulders which has helped so much.
It's nice to feel so well looked after.
Most of my sponsored ads on Facebook lately are for surveys.
Sometimes they're, like "tell us how worried you are about your pension, old person!" but if they are at all relevant to me I do them. I told car people that I'm not going to buy an electric car. I told bike people that I don't know or care about brands of bike stuff. I told "men's beauty" people yesterday that I like to smell good and that diversity is important in representing masculinity. I've got one academic research survey waiting for me about anxiety/stress symptomology and sleep health and another on "Cognitive Processing of Stressful Life Events in Individuals Having Migrated to the UK."
I love surveys. I do policy and I'm interested about the kind of information people want to collect.
So a week or so ago I got asked to do a "big pet census" by a pet charity called Blue Cross.
I just wanted to tell you that it has some of the most charming questions.
Does your dog(s) 'smile'?
Mine absolutely does.
How often do you talk about your dog(s)?
It made me laugh that the first option is "Every hour." I will always think of D's sister, when he and I joined them all for a family get-together, marveling at how much D and I talked about Gary when he wasn't even there. Well, that's partly why! We missed him! She's used to D's other sister, who has dogs but never talks about them. I've met them repeatedly and couldn't discern their personalities or anything to distinguish the three of them from each other. They're a status symbol for their owner. So very different to how we relate to Gary!
What makes you laugh the most about your dog(s)?
I've been thinking about this ever since. I think it's his cuteness, but it's difficult to describe exactly how or why that makes me laugh. It's related to the Dogs Are So Good feelings/moments. I wonder if it might be related to cute aggression?
How long would you have to be away from your dog(s) before you really start to miss them?
They know me so well! The first option was "A few minutes."
Do you have a social media account for your dog(s)?
Not any more! Though he does have a hashtag on Mastodon, but that's better anyway: all three of us can and do easily contribute that way.
How many pictures do you take of your dog(s) each month on average?
I just guessed but this would be such an embarrassingly large number.
Do you talk to your dog(s)?
Do people not?! Sometimes I can tell who's awake/where people are in the house just by hearing them talk to the dog.
How often do you wonder what your dog is thinking about?
Not only do we wonder about this, we regularly talk about wondering about it. I've been known to call him "Gary the Wonder What's Up With You Dog.
If you could ask your dog(s) anything what would it be?
I was totally stumped by this.
What is your dog's favourite word?
Well now the question I want to ask him is what his favorite word is!
What is your favourite physical feature of your dog(s)?
This one I just wanted to share because of the lovely options:
I was really torn here because all of these things are great ("his expressive eye" in his case, but it is very expressive!) but I had to go with his "playful ears".
But anyway, like I say, Gary suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs and hopefully after all these words you know how happy that made me.
This ordinary thing, which I never take for granted anyway (his little shuffling noises on his bed are so cozy to me; even when he wakes me up with big coughing fits or whining at me (which may be because he wants me to let him out or may be that he wants pets or may be a secret third thing I don't understand at all, I just know that it's usually helped by me speaking to him, saying his name and telling him he's a good boy and trying to reassure him that it's okay to go to sleep)), seems especially lovely and magical tonight.
I hope you've had less exhausting days. But just as lovely and magical as this.
baggyeyes